Holocaust remembered in local ceremony

BY ELAINE VAN DEVELDE
Staff Writer

BY ELAINE VAN DEVELDE
Staff Writer


JOHN E. SZPARA Joe Borowsky looks on as survivor Helena Bokor lights a candle at the Holocaust remembrance ceremony held Thursday at the county Jewish Community Center, Edison. Below, the color of the yellow tulips held significance at the ceremony.JOHN E. SZPARA Joe Borowsky looks on as survivor Helena Bokor lights a candle at the Holocaust remembrance ceremony held Thursday at the county Jewish Community Center, Edison. Below, the color of the yellow tulips held significance at the ceremony.

EDISON — Candles were lit. Prayers were recited. Stories were told. Songs were sung. These simple things were done in the name of solidarity, so that they — the 6 million Jews tortured and killed during the Holocaust — would not be forgotten.

People gathered last week at the Jewish Community Center of Middlesex County, Edison, in a simple show of remembrance and honor for those who perished at the hands of the Nazis 60 some years ago.

The words "not forgotten" were spoken often in the vigil.

"It is very important to remember," said Holocaust survivor Helena Bokor in broken English.


"I will tell anything to you or anyone who needs to know about what happened so that no one ever forgets and it never happens again," said Bokor, who now lives in Edison.

Her warm green eyes gave a glimpse into her world of sad memories. Her handshakes and hugs were as firm as her conviction to remember.

And remember is what the group did.

Seven yellow candles were lit. Each light "signifies that you are not forgotten," event organizer Jennine Shpigel said. The first candle was lit, she said, in memory of "children, infants and teenagers who were cut down before they really had a chance to live."

The second was for the mothers who "continued until the end to hold a child in their arms, to comfort a crying baby," Shpigel said.

A third candle honored all fathers who perished "powerless to protect their families," she continued.

A fourth candle stood lit in memory of rabbis, teachers and scholars who taught and studied Jewish heritage.

The fifth candle was lit in honor of those who fought the Nazis.

A sixth candle was lit for the martyrs "who voluntarily gave their lives by going back into Hitler-controlled Europe in an effort to save their captured brothers," Shpigel said.

And, finally, a seventh candle was lit to represent "us and our obligation to bring the memory and lessons of the Holocaust into our lives," she added. "A people who remembers, lives."

Yellow tulips sat behind each can­dle, honoring the people of Holland who helped the Jews escape the Nazis during the Holocaust.

While yellow was the color of the emblem all Jews were marked with for desecration by Hitler’s regime, Shpigel said it was chosen as a symbol of strength and defiance of the Nazi symbol for the ceremony.

She read an anecdote written by a Jackie Ruben, a college graduate stu­dent in the 1970s, recounting memories of her ancestors and their commitment to the memory of the Holocaust.

"I found it on the Internet," Shpigel said of the selection. "I just thought it really struck a chord with the idea of remembrance."

Ruben’s piece told the story of watching her grandmother contentedly making chicken paprikash, an old family recipe. The young girl asked where her grandma’s parents and other family members were.

"They’re dead," Ruben’s grand­mother said in a whisper, according to the piece. "They were killed."

The young Ruben in the story asked her grandma if they were killed with a sword. "I’ve never seen my grand­mother cry," Shpigel read from the story. "Her bright green eyes become water as I approach her, wondering, fearing, whatever it is, what the shadow, the terrible thing is …"

Ruben, the story told, would later find out that her grandmother’s par­ents, sister Irenke, brother Gyula and wife Etush, their children and many more family members had been killed in the Holocaust — "the word that sym­bolized my family’s taboo subject," the story explained.

"To me, it is a word that has fol­lowed me throughout my life. It is also the wound of my heart that will never heal. It is, in short, my family legacy — one that I have sworn to myself I will pass down to the generations as the most important lesson to teach my kids."

Ruben’s legacy belongs to many others, Shpigel said, because, "there are so many with a similar story. These relatives and friends are not for­gotten. This little story was just an­other beautiful reminder that we really must always remember."